


Take My Breath Away

by Mx_Maxie



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, Choking, Drowning, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sensation Play, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mx_Maxie/pseuds/Mx_Maxie
Summary: Two gals just having a fun time in the bath
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 42





	Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> A request from the good ole twitter.

"Please," she begs, "please, please, please."

It's: breathless and gasping and so desperately said. She needs to come, God please, please, but no. She's not allowed, she can see that on her Mistress' face, in the curve of her indulgent smile. 

Not allowed, no matter how much she begs, and whines, and whimpers. And she should hate it, right? Because she's been good! She hasn't touched, except the once when Mistress wasn't around. She's followed every rule, except maybe one, except maybe two.

She hasn't begged, except just now. Isn't that good enough?

She thinks it is, but Mistress doesn’t. 

Mistress says, “ _ be good, my sweet _ ” with a smile and a stroke of her cheek, and she just about melts.

Back into the water, deeper into Mistress’ embrace. She’s choking on air, on all of Mistress’ affection, but she wants more. She wants to  _ drown _ .

“Deep breath, darling,” Mistress hums, and she obeys, before she can think, she does what Mistress says. One steady breath, deeper-deeper, until her lungs ache with it, and the under. Steady hands on her shoulder, around her throat, under. 

The first second is always the longest, when her face dips under and the water washes over and her eyes are closed. She can’t see the porcelain edge or the surface so close, she can’t even see her Mistress, but Mistress is there. Cool fingers around her throat, holding her, keeping her right there under the surface. Keeping her safe and not letting her float away. 

The first second stretches out, almost into forever, but never quite there. She always has to look, when the fingers aren’t enough, she always needs to see, when her lungs start to ache.

She opens her eyes, bare against the water, and sees: the shape of her Mistress leaning over, the blur of the light above, the edges of the tub rising up. All distorted, all dreaming away. She watches and aches, her lungs and her pussy. Because she’s wet, god she’s wet everywhere, but mostly there. 

Right where Mistress is trailing a hand, one holding her throat, one leading down her thigh. Gentle fingers, barely there, between her lips, feather light along her slit but never her clit. Oh Mistress is so cruel, and so wonderful.

She blinks and burbles, air slipping out and up. It’s so hard to hold her breath, but Mistress’ hand is firm and her fingers are dipping in-in, so not yet. She has to hold it and wait and be good. Yes good, she can do that.

That’s what Mistress is saying, that she’s being good, that she’s a good girl. She can’t hear the words perfectly but she knows the shape of their sound and yes, yes, she’s good! 

And Mistress fingers are too, harder, deeper. Stroking her and teasing her and filling her up. First one, then two, and yes please, please, please. The ache in her chest is tight, the ache in her gut is hot, and she knows which one will break first, but no, but please!

\--there! She’s there! Just more, just a little bit and she--

“Nooo,” she cries, and moans, and wheezes. Breaking the surface, again, gasping for breath, again.

Mistress is smiling at her, always smiling, and popping her fingers between her lips. The ones that were almost there, almost had her tipping over the edge, but never quite. Like the first breath, never right where she wanted it, never as long as she needed it.

“P-please,” she hiccups, sniffing, shaking. She’s sloshing water over the edge, onto the tiles, but she can’t stop. She was so close this time!

Closer than before, closer than any other time, but Mistress knows her too well, so well. Watches her with soft eyes and wicked guile, winking as she licks the salt from her fingertips. 

“Breathe for me, pretty girl,” Mistress coos, thumb stroking that jumping vein in her neck, fluttering her eyes shut so easy. And isn’t it easy? To do what Mistress says and breathe for her, slow and deep instead of fast and sharp? To lean into Mistress’ touch again and soak in some of the warmth she loses every time she goes under. 

“Good girl, my pretty girl,” Mistress hums, and the soft praise warms her twice as hot. To be good, to hear it after she tried so hard to be it. Yes, she’s Mistress’ good, pretty girl. Yes, yes, yes. 

“Do you want to come, my sweet?” Mistress asks, words against her temple, lips pressed to her skin. 

Does she want to? Yes, yes of course she does! She’s wanted to all night, from the very start when Mistress sat by, watching her like a hawk as she stripped off her clothes. Then when she rode Mistress’ thigh and buried her face in Mistress’ shoulder, begging again and again, though all she could say was “ _ please _ ”. 

Please and please and please, because she was close then too. And when Mistress pinned her by the throat, so gentle and secure, and fucked her desperate with just her fingers. And again when she went under the first time, dizzy headed and...and...and she can see Mistress’ smile in her head. Feel it against her temple.

Mistress is...testing her. She wants to see if her good girl can follow the rules, if she really  _ is  _ a good girl. And oh, and oh  _ please _ !

“No, no Mistress, I don’t,” she whispers, moaning whisper quiet, “good girls don’t need to come, and I’m a good girl.”

Even though she doesn’t always follow the rules and even though she can’t help but beg sometimes, because Mistress makes her feel so-so good! She can’t help herself, she really can’t, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a good girl. She is, she is, she really, really is!

“That’s right darling,” Mistress laughs, so sweet, so sweet, “good girls don’t need it and  _ you  _ are absolutely perfect.”


End file.
